Kidnapped into Slavery part 3

Author: plugged
Title: Kidnapped into Slavery part 3
Date: 28 September 2008

by: Skinphil
skinphil1@yahoo.com





Part 3

My feet and calves were no longer of use, having no feeling in them now. They went right back now, and looked almost a part of my thighs, they were so thin. Hair was growing more rapidly on my body. It was growing over the entire body surface, including my hands. My hands were no longer recognisable as hands as we know them. Restricted use, and bindings had forced them into a dog like shape, and were easier to walk on now, and heavily calloused with use gave a pad like effect. I was moved from the kennels into a new kennel inside the prison. Here, I was given a new tail, grafted onto my body, just a small stump like a bulldog, and my feet and calves removed. The stump left was reshaped to give me paws, but I felt no discomfort, I had my soft music to help. After several weeks inside, I was led to a room. Here were several humans, all in that wonderful smell of leather. Humans smell so good in other animal skins. I was paraded like I was taught, and with Shit as well, we both were told to "Fuck." We immediately sniffed each other's tails and cocks, and then I attacked Shit ferociously, knocking him to the floor, but Shit was a fighter, and came back at me with equal force. His once muscular body had done him proud through his ordeal, and he now had a solid chest, and sleek hips. I was more like a bulldog, solid and powerful, but not swift like Shit. "Bog. Fuck!" My master shouted. I mounted Shit, but Shit fought me off again. I attacked from the rear, catching him off guard, and this time I entered him quickly. Our training had taught us that if entered, we were to accept defeat, and take it like a bitch. Shit relented.

We were both taken through our training. It was easier now with our new changes. The scars had healed, and we were in the picture of good health. Our coats were shiny and well groomed. Shit was no more than another dog to me now, to fight and to fuck when told to. There was no meaning to his life for me any more. He did not exist, and neither did any thing or anybody. I was no longer human, living, thinking acting and loving like a true dog. After the showing of our training, we were taken to our kennel in the building, and the earplugs placed on us again, only the music had changed, and we lay down to sleep.

Meanwhile, in the big room, twelve men in leather bid for Shit and Bog. Each knew if he were to win, he would have to pay a substantial sum of money to the training establishment. Each was wined and dined with sumptuous delicacies, and although each was a rival, all were jovial and cordial to each other. One stood out. Dressed in leather like the rest, he was the only one with a shaven head. His body was covered in black tattoos, and his shaven head shined brilliantly in the candlelight of the dinner candles. He was not young, being in his early 60's, but he had looked after himself, and still worked out at the gym every day. His muscular physique showed an inner and outer power not shown in any of his fellow dinners. He was also the only leather man of West Indian decent in the room, and his dark skin was deep and smooth. The bidding was carried out in secret, and written on a slip of paper then handed to the host. The best 3 were accepted, and then bidding again was carried out. This time 2 were accepted. The dark skinned leather man was one of the two last bidders, and after desert was served, port and coffee was taken in the library. Here each bidder was able to inspect the goods at close hand, as each dog was brought in. The two last bidders were bidding an amount for each dog, so each expected to own a dog that night, but bidding would determine which one went home with them.

Finally, the bidding came to an end, winners decided, dogs having new homes. Shit was sold to a gay couple from Edinburgh, and medicinal aids and special hypnosis tapes supplied to his owners to enable him to survive the cold Scottish winters. They owned a small sheep farm in the highlands near Edinburgh and would use him as a companion. Shit would live a happy and healthy life for many years with the couple, until their death, being then sold again to another couple that kept him till he passed away in his sleep at the age of 35. A good age for a dog slave.

Bog was successfully bid for, by the West Indian leather-man. They both left the prison that night. Sonny lived in a nearby house in Sussex. He too had his underground secret dungeon, but his was not as notorious as was the former prison owner. This was Sonny's playroom. Sonny was lonely, and had recently lost his lover of 30 years to cancer. He wanted love, but did not want a lover to mar his memories of his former mate. He therefore was prepared to pay highly for a slave dog, to be able to lavish his affection without feeling he was denying his previous love. His first sight of Bog had left him reeling. He had to own him. His long black hair: his snubby snout; his stubby tail, and awkward little legs. He would love this dog, cherish it's being and look after him with all his being. Sonny had always wanted a dog, but his lover, Fredrik had been allergic to pet hair, so a canary was as much as they ever had. Sonny had been given strict instructions on the training, commands and upkeep of the dog, Bog. They would have to attend training sessions twice weekly for 4 weeks to establish proper owner dog relations.

His being in a car with this human confused Bog. He had never been in a car, and crept onto the floor and cringed. He remained there till Sonny arrived at his home about 30 minutes later. Sonny took him inside, and went into the kitchen. He went to the fridge, and grabbed a small piece of meat. "Sit Bog, Sit." Sonny said quietly, and when Bog sat properly, gave it to Bog. Bog woofed it down, as he had not eaten that day. He looked for more. "No Bog, no more tonight, you eat in the morning when you are settled." Sonny said softly, stroking Bog around the ears. Sonny looked straight at him. "I will love you Bog, and look after you. I know you cannot understand me yet, but we will be best mates soon, I promise you." With that, Sonny placed Bog on a lead, and took him out to the back garden. Here he allowed Bog to sniff his new home, and do a piss and a shit. Sonny knew he had to wipe Bogs ass each time he defecated, this was part of dog slave ownership, and was prepared.